


Little Black Dress

by SharpestRose



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestRose/pseuds/SharpestRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ancient And Most Noble Legacy Of Robins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Black Dress

Dear Diary;

Wow! Paris is really nice. Or Paree, which is what people call it here. The hotel room is huge and beautiful and the view is amazing. Bruce had to tell me off for leaning out the window too far, and when I pointed out that I seriously don't have any kind of fear of heights he reminded me that Jason might not, but that doesn't mean Jane wouldn't.

The heels aren't so bad, and I think the clothes must be really expensive. They hang different to the ordinary dresses I've seen teachers at school and Amanda and Julia wear. There's a red one and a couple of black ones, plus some jeans and shirts.

It's weird. I've been undercover before, but never for as long as I will be this week. A whole week in disguise! I'm not really worried about playing at being a girl, I figure I'll do the best I can and hope it goes okay. I got to bring the Robin costume too, of course, but Bruce says I most likely won't get a chance to wear it. We're here so Bruce can see how the European research companies he's funding are going, after all. Not to fight crime or anything fun like that.

I was kinda surprised when Bruce said he wanted me to come along, because I knew he was just using the invitation to the gallery opening gala as an excuse to travel here to look at the science and technology stuff. I was especially surprised when I found out that the invitation was for "Bruce Wayne and date". It's confusing having more than one identity! Because there's Batman and Robin, and Jason and Bruce, and they're all together, but then there's Bruce Wayne who's this big playboy guy with lots of rumors about him and all these girls, and it was _him_ who'd got the invitation. I couldn't see how I could fit into that part of Bruce's life.

Then he started talking about practicing my disguise techniques and a chance to hone my performance skills and all kinds of things, and boy was I surprised! Alfred says he thinks it's just that Bruce didn't want to be away from me for a whole week. Either way, I get to visit Paris, so I don't mind having to be Jane instead of Jason while I'm here.

We're going to go out walking and look at some of the shops and cafes and parks now. I hope nobody expects me to speak French, because I don't know much beyond "Hello", "see you later" and "Are you sleeping, brother John?", none of which would be much good if someone asked me what time it was or something!

* * *

  
Dear Diary;

I was going to order toast for breakfast, to see if it was actual French toast, but then I remembered that I don't really like French toast. So I'm having boring old muesli instead.

When we got back to the hotel yesterday evening some of the other gallery guests were checking in, and Bruce stopped to chat to them. He laughs way more when he's being Bruce Wayne, but it doesn't sound like his real laugh. I like his real laugh better.

The guests were a French couple, Madelaine and Henri Dufarge. Madelaine gave me a really big smile and told me that I had wrists like sparrow bones. French people are a bit strange! She was really pretty, very smooth-looking and glittery and powdered. I think she's a bit older than Bruce, but Henri was way, way older.

Bruce is going to look at a medical lab today. He asked if I wanted to come along, but I pointed out that Jane probably wouldn't tag along to stuff like that, would she? And Bruce got this big smile on his face and said "that's good thinking, Jay."

So instead I'm just going to wander around. I'm glad that short hair is fashionable on girls at the moment, a wig would be way less fun than the rest of this costume. I don't think I'm doing the mascara right. Maybe I'll go to a beauty salon.

* * *

  
Dear Diary;

Last night was the first of the gallery parties. I wore one of the black dresses and a necklace I found when I was out shopping yesterday. It's got a bunch of little stones on it, red and green and blue and yellow, and the saleslady said that it caught the color of my eyes. I mostly picked it because I'm not used to just wearing black! I like bright clothes.

There's this other Gotham family staying at this same hotel and going to the gallery things too. We met them last night, and the dad looked me up and down and it was weird, it made my skin feel crawly. Sometimes I get people looking at me like that when I'm Robin (and even occasionally when I'm Jason) but this felt totally different. No wonder girls like it so much when boys treat them like humans. That it - he didn't look at me like I was really a person. I was just a big pretty doll. I kinda wanted to punch him, but instead I smiled and laughed and did all those disguise things I'm supposed to be learning.

I guess I make a pretty girl. I can't tell. I'm not curvy, and the insert things for the bras aren't that big. Alfred says Dick used to be a C cup, but that I look better as a B.

Bruce seems to think I look okay, anyway. We were riding back up to this room in the elevator after the party and he started kissing my shoulders and my neck and resting his hands on my hips from behind me. There was this old lady with a little white dog in the elevator too and she gave us this big grin, like it was really cute that Bruce couldn't keep his hands off me. It was kinda nice, because we never get to do anything like that back home. For once it's _part_ of the secret identity for him to touch me when people can see us.

* * *

  
Dear Diary;

Just after I wrote that last entry, the phone in our suite rang. Bruce answered it and then his eyebrows shot up like he was surprised, and he handed the phone to me and said "It's for you". It was Madelaine, the lady we met when we first got here, and she wanted to take me out for coffee. I said okay, and put on some of the jeans I brought with me. It's weird, you'd think that I'd just look like plain ordinary Jason in jeans, but in these ones I still look like Jane. They go in at the waist or the legs are different or something (don't ask me!) and so I look like a girl in pants instead of a boy.

Madelaine kept smiling at me a lot and I asked her what was so funny. She said that I remind her of a girl she knew a long time ago. I think she meant her. Then she started going on about how my wrists are like sparrow bones again, and calling me 'little bird', and then she noticed the little red rub marks where I'd had the scarves tied on last night. She gave this big deep chuckle and clasped my hand and said that I should make sure to get a rock on my finger before Bruce got sick of me.

I blushed a bit and said that I didn't think about stuff like that much. Madelaine said that girls like me never do, and that's why they end up bitter and lost and angry. She showed me the ring on her finger. It was a really, really big diamond! The kind of stuff Catwoman would probably try to steal if she saw it.

I didn't really know what to say after that, but I didn't have to think of anything because the boy from the other Gotham family staying at the hotel was hovering around outside the cafe and kept looking in at us like he was pretending that he wasn't really looking. Madelaine leaned in close to me and said "he has a crush on you, I think", and she seemed to think this was adorable. She made the waiter bring over this big chocolate sundae and then she got up.

"Every boy should have a memory of a beautiful woman in Paris," she told me, and she said it Paree. Then she left, and stopped outside to point the boy inside to where I was sitting.

He came in and he was blushing really hard. He said "Hi. My name's Tim. I'm sorry about my dad," so I liked him right away. He's twelve years old, and when he told me his age he looked at me like he was daring me to comment on the fact that he was wandering around a foreign city on his own. So I didn't say anything.

Then Tim asked why there was a big ice cream on the table and I had to explain about Madelaine. I didn't say that she thought he had a crush on me, because I think he woulda died of embarrassment if I had. I just said that since we were both American she thought we should hang out.

Tim's funny and smart and a bit weird, like he's always trying not to laugh at some huge joke that the rest of the world isn't getting. It's kinda cool to have made a friend way over here who I might end up meeting again back home. I just hope I never have to see his dad again!

* * *

  
Dear Diary;

Dick sent me an email with a link to an online newspaper article from the States about the gallery opening. There was a picture where you could see me and Bruce in the background crowd. The email had a sound file in it that played a loop of someone laughing.

I sent back a message saying 'Marie Antoinette.' He hasn't replied to that one.

* * *

  
Dear Diary;

Another party last night. I introduced Tim to Bruce. Tim got all wide-eyed and stammery, which was totally cute. I guess it is kind of a big deal to meet Bruce Wayne, if you're a Gothamite and know who he is. Tim told Bruce that he met Dick once, a long time ago, which just goes to show that it really is a small world.

I realized that I won't be able to hang out with Tim when we're back in America, because he only knows Jane and I'll be back to being Jason then. That made me feel sorta sad.

Bruce says he's really proud of how well I'm handling a sustained undercover assignment. I told him that he makes a good handbag to complete my disguise, and he laughed. I really do like his laugh. It always makes me smile, like everything in the world is just right.

* * *

  
Dear Diary;

It's night-time of the same day as that last entry now. No party tonight or tomorrow night, and I'm glad of the rest! Small talk is hard. I feel sorry for Bruce, because he has to do this stuff all the time.

Today Tim and I went to this arcade and all the games were in French, which was pretty funny but we couldn't understand what the rules were. Tim glanced around to see if any of the attendants were watching and then he snuck around the back of the nearest machine and fiddled with the wires or switches or something, because the screen flicked off for a few seconds and when the picture came back the words were in English.

I said Tim must have magic powers and he gave me a funny look and shook his head and said he was just good at working things out.

We played in the arcade for a while - Tim kicked my ass - and then I figured that Jane probably wouldn't spend all day hanging around with a twelve-year-old playing video games. But there's only so much shopping I can do, even in Paris! It's not like there's any point in me buying clothes or shoes or makeup, after all. I just kind of wander around and look bored, like nothing that's for sale is good enough for me.

We went walking. The buildings are all really cool looking. It's kind of like being inside a picture book all the time. I didn't expect Paris to look so much like Paris, if that makes any sense. I feel like I'm in a French movie or something. I've even got this cool pair of tortoiseshell cat's-eye sunglasses.

Tim was telling me about a book he'd read about space exploration when we both heard this little muffled screaming noise from the little alley-space between two shops. I started running before I'd even stopped to think about it, and even when I did think about it I didn't slow down or anything. If I let a crime happen just to protect my secret identity, then the secret identity isn't worth anything, is it? Keeping people safe has to be more important than _anything_ else.

There was a lady, and a guy was going to hurt her. She ran off when I started punching. I'd stepped out of my shoes when I was running, which is kind of a pity. Those heels have to be good for something, right? I bet I coulda done some damage with them. My stockings got torn up on the concrete ground while I was beating the guy up, too.

Tim was holding my shoes and calling Jane, Jane from the mouth of the alleyway and then his voice got sharper and he shouted JASON!, and you'd better bet that got my attention! He said he'd phoned the police and that we should get out of there, so we ran for a couple of blocks and I took off my stockings (which were all shredded on the soles) and put my shoes back on. We ducked into a cafe and Tim ordered us coffees (he speaks better French than I do). I asked if he was allowed to have coffee and he gave me this look that would probably have frozen me solid except that I was still all jazzed up from the fight. We got kind of snitty then, like we weren't sure if we were supposed to be pissed at each other for keeping secrets or not, but we got over it pretty fast. It was more interesting to talk than to argue.

Seems that he's been watching Batman and Robin for years. I wasn't really mad about that, because I did the same thing for a little while. He was way scared that Bruce and I would be super-mad at him for sneaking around. I promised him that things would be okay. I said it would probably be best if we waited until we were all back in Gotham before telling Bruce and Alfred, and then I asked what Tim wanted to do.

"Do?" he asked, like he'd never even _thought_ about it. "I just... what could _I_ do? I just watch."

I told him he was the cutest, most clueless thing ever, and that there were tons of things he could do. He could be our computer guy, or he could sneak around and get information and evidence for us, and help with undercover stuff.

The best part is that I'll still be able to be buds with him when we're back in Gotham. _All the time_ , because it's not like I have much of a chance to do ordinary friend stuff on weekends or after school. Having a friend who's one of the team will be totally cool.

* * *

  
Dear Diary

Bruce says that a stay in Paris isn't complete unless there's at least one day where neither of you leave the hotel room at all. So I don't have anything to write about today.

* * *

  
Dear Diary

Today's the last day here. Our flight's tomorrow at midday. It's just after five in the evening right now, I'm about to get changed into the red dress. I haven't worn it yet, but I'm pretty sure it's going to look really great. I'll have to make sure to steer clear of Tim's dad. Did I write here that at the party the other night, when I introduced Tim to Bruce, Tim's Dad asked me what the number of my escort service back in Gotham was? And he was trying to stare down the neckline of my dress, too. He was totally drunk. Then, a little later, Tim's Mom gave me this glare like it was my fault. It was awful and horrible.

Tim wanted to see some of the research facilities with Bruce, so we both went along. It was pretty interesting, they're doing things with plants to make them more nutrient-enhanced or something. I know tons of people don't like modified food, but sometimes when I'm Robin I see kids who're hungry and I figure that _they_ would probably be happy if everything they did manage to eat was extra-good for them. If you're only getting one apple in a whole day, it's better if it's the best apple it possibly can be, right?

This stuff is confusing. I never know what the right answer is. Everything's all shades of grey.

Bruce says that's exactly why he needs me so much. He says I'm the color in the grey. He told me that yesterday and I think it's the best thing anybody's ever said to me.

* * *

  
Dear Diary

Bags are all packed! We're about to go catch a taxi to the airport. My head's kinda sore, because at the end of the party last night Tim and I stole one of the bottles of champagne and went up to the roof of the hotel and looked out at all the lights of Paris and took turns taking gulps. It made me feel kind of fizzy all over, like the bubbles in the drink were in my brain or something. I think Bruce thought it was cute when I got back to the room and I had to keep my hand on the wall so I didn't stumble in my shoes. He laughed a bit, but in a nice way. I hope Tim's okay. His parents will probably be sleeping in themselves, so hopefully he can get more rest than I've had.

Madelaine took me aside at the party last night and tried to give me more advice. She says I should make Bruce marry me, and then have a baby right away so that even if Bruce dumps me then I'll still get money for the kid. She'd been drinking too, I could tell, because her eyes were kind of bright and shiny. She gripped my hand really tight and said that next time she saw me, she wanted me to be Jane Wayne. I wanted to laugh at that, because it sounds funny when it's said (especially with a French accent) but I could tell that she was being serious. I said yes, yes, I'll do my best, okay, I gotta go. She nodded, and let me walk away. Then she called out "Don't forget, little bird, a gilded cage is better than the empty air." I felt sort of sad for her, but I'm not sure exactly why. I don't think she's ever been really happy in her life.

I've liked being in Paris a lot. It was fun pretending to be someone else. Maybe next time Bruce has to go abroad I'll be able to tag along again. It would be a shame for these clothes to just end up in the back of the closet, considering how nice they are and all. But I hope Bruce's next trip isn't any time soon. I'll be glad to be Jason (and Robin!) again for a while first. When Tim's family gets back home, he's going to phone me and we'll plan a day when he can come over and meet Bruce and Alfred properly.

I'd better go now, so I'm ready when the taxi gets here. What a week!


End file.
